Death by Santana Lopez
by vendettadays
Summary: The day Santana Lopez cornered Kurt at his locker, he knew he was going to get his comeuppance for even holding hands with Brittany, but not in the way that he had had in mind. Brittany/Santana


**Title:** Death By Santana Lopez  
><strong>Author:<strong> vendettadays**  
>Fandom:<strong> Glee  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Brittany/Santana, Kurt  
><strong>Rating:<strong> G  
><strong>Length:<strong> 769  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Up to 'Laryngitis'  
><strong>Summary:<strong> The day Santana Lopez cornered Kurt at his locker, he knew he was going to get his comeuppance for even holding hands with Brittany, but not in the way that he had had in mind.**  
>AN:** Originally posted on LJ.

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><p>Kurt closed his locker and jumped at finding himself a foot away from Santana Lopez. He normally gave her a wide berth, apart from when needed, like in Cheerios or Glee – he knew just how much damage the girl could do to you if you even placed a toe out of line.<p>

"Is it true?"

Santana was leaning against the lockers with her arms crossed in front of her, and the look on her face told him that if he didn't say what she wanted to hear, she was going to rip him a new one.

"Is what true?" asked Kurt, blithely ignorant. He frantically searched the corridor, for allies or at least potential witnesses if something were to happen to him. And judging by the murderous glint in Santana's eyes, whatever was coming to him was not going to be pretty.

"Don't play dumb, Hummel, you know what I mean," she snapped, the furrow in her brows becoming more pronounced, and Kurt had to restrain himself from reaching into his bag for the tub of moisturizer he kept on him at all times.

Then it hit him, exactly what Santana was talking about.

Oh God, oh God, oh God. His eyes widened in fright, as his heart pounded a terrified beat.

It had been a few days since his 'thing' with Brittany, and he had stupidly thought that he could go about his life unscathed, as if he had never made out with the blonde cheerleader in the first place. How naïve of him. Of course Brittany would have told Santana afterwards; they were best friends and whatever else they were that they never said out loud, which Kurt was absolutely sure he did not want to know.

"Um, yeah… It didn't m-mean anything," stuttered Kurt, taking a step back, hoping maybe he could make a run for it. He was fast and could probably make it to safety in time, but then again, he had seen her run suicides at practice. That girl had stamina.

Santana huffed impatiently, clearly not buying his answer. "How could it have meant nothing? You said it yourself, you were holding her hand!"

"I-it was nothing, I mean, she said if I… and I was–"

He was abruptly cut off by Santana taking hold off his neck tie, yanking him down the corridor like a dog.

"Shut it, Hummel, you're coming with me."

He momentarily mourned the silk of his tie, the wrinkles and creases were going to take forever to iron out. It was the newest in his Marc Jacobs collection! But all thoughts of fashion fled from his mind, when he realized that his death was imminent and not even someone like Jacob Ben Israel was going to bear witness to his murder.

Well, if this was really his last few moments, at least he was wearing his own clothes and not his Cheerios uniform.

Kurt had expected pain. _Lots _of pain. But honestly, this was hurting so much more than a punch in the gut by the football Neanderthals.

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><p>"Britt, I really didn't mean it!" he pleaded to the crying blonde girl.<p>

"Yes you did! You said it was a secret and secrets are always true!" sobbed Brittany into Santana's shoulder, who was wearing the largest smirk, which Kurt suspected was bordering onto a smile.

"It was a joke! I was trying to be funny!" Kurt looked around the Glee room, but no one was going to help him out of this one.

Making Brittany cry was like a felony.

"Well, your jokes are horrible, like Finn's dancing." She looked up at him, but she immediately started sniffling again at the sight of his hands.

Kurt sagged into a chair next to her, defeated and out of ideas. He would even kneel on the floor, getting his pants dirty, begging and groveling if it would have made a difference.

"Come on, B, he was kidding," Santana shushed gently, opening her mouth for the first time since she'd dragged Kurt into the room. "You heard him, it was a joke."

"So, he didn't use duck fat?"

"No, he didn't use duck fat," she reassured, wiping the tears from Brittany's face, while running a comforting hand up and down her back.

"Okay," Brittany replied quietly, leaning forward to place a simple kiss on Santana's cheek.

Kurt watched the sneer form on Santana's lips as she hugged Brittany, mouthing silently to him that he was _so_ dead.

He sighed loudly. A week of patriotic wedgies and being thrown in the dumpster seemed way more painless than death by Santana Lopez.


End file.
